


Change of Plan

by Aurlana



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Cullen as the Hero of Ferelden, Cullen doesn't agree with the Templar Way, M/M, Templar Training (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-07-10 11:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19904989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurlana/pseuds/Aurlana
Summary: Cullen as the Hero of Ferelden?Sure, why not!





	1. The Day of Alistair’s Conscription

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jellysharkbat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellysharkbat/gifts).



> Once upon a time, **Jellysharkbat** asked **Cullenlovesmen** -  
>  _"Since I'm on a cullistair trip (again): do you or any followers know of any cullistair fics where Cullen's the Warden?"_
> 
> **Cullenlovesmen** pinged myself and **GoWombat83** and we collectively came up with a whopping TWO stories. And short ones at that! 
> 
> ~ This, my friends, is a travesty. ~
> 
> I had a few things on my plate, but vowed to remedy this little oversight in the fan fiction world as soon as I had the chance (by Cullen Appreciation Week 2019 at the latest). This IS a WIP. It will not have a regular posting schedule, but I will add more scenes as inspiration strikes.
> 
> Today, I give you the first three chapters leading Cullen to Ostagar. I have notes and ideas taking the boys up through and beyond DAI. Each chapter will be it's own little snippet in time and I will endeavor to complete them chronologically. (ie no DA2 bits posted until that pesky archdemon is dead!) - At least, that's the current plan. :) 
> 
> JellySharkBat, I hope this scratches that itch. ;) I will happily take prompts if there are particular scenes that you'd like to see, or things you want to happen during them. Just drop me a message and I will see what I can do. :)

* * *

**Change of Plan**

**(Cullen as the Hero of Ferelden - A Cullistair Story)**

**Chapter 1: The Day of Alistair's Conscription**

* * *

He’s leaving? How can he do this to me? He’s my everything! Since the day I arrived when those assholes tried to pick on me for being thirteen and stuck in class with eleven year olds, Alistair was there to stick up for me, defend me. He was the one to comfort me and make me laugh with stories of being raised by dogs instead of guardians that didn’t want him. 

_At least… I think they were just stories._

None of that matters now, because he’s chosen this. And he looks so damned happy about it.

I wring my hands and blink back tears as Alistair comes bounding back up to me.

“Cullen! Cullen! I just talked with Duncan. He says you can come with us! We can finally have what we always wanted together, we can serve and protect and…”

“Alistair, I… can’t.” I choke on a sob and bolt for our room. I can’t do this now… I’m not sure I can do this ever. My heart is breaking, I’m losing my best friend, I’m losing my...

_I just need a few minutes to pull myself together, I just need…_

“Cullen?” Alistair’s voice is so small when he catches up to me in a secluded hallway, hand tentatively reaching for my shoulder. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he whispers.

I wipe the tears from my eyes. “For someone so smart, you can be so dense,” I tell him. “All I’ve ever wanted was to be a Templar. Then I came here and met you and… we were going to do this all together. I wanted it even more then, everything I loved in one place… but now? You’re leaving me!”

“But… Duncan said!” he argues.

“I don’t want to be a Grey Warden!” I practically shout, then reign it in. “I can’t… I can’t come with you. You’ve chosen them over me, and I… I understand. I get it. I’m not good enough to keep you. I never was, and never will be. You’ve made your choice and what I want doesn’t matter. I’m not sure it ever did.” I turn and walk away as quickly as I can. I don’t wait for his response, there isn’t one that would make this day any better.

**~*~**

It’s late that night when Alistair finally makes his way back to our room. I try to pretend that I’m asleep, but I could never fool Alistair.

“Hey… I... missed you at dinner,” Alistair whispers.

“I wasn’t hungry,” I mumble, head still underneath the covers to hide my tear-stained cheeks, the covers don’t hide my sniffles though.

“I brought you a few rolls anyway, in case you get hungry later,” he says, quietly. There’s some shuffling around the room and I feel the bed dip next to me, his hand on my shoulder, he’s sniffling too. “I… I’m so sorry, Cullen. I know you’re mad at me, and I really did try to get back here to talk with you earlier but they kept me busy returning my gear and checking out and I…” He takes a deep breath and forges ahead, “it’s my last night here… I don’t want to spend our last night together mad at each other. I don’t want…” I feel him trembling, so I sit up and wrap my arms around him, pulling him down next to me.

We lay, face to face, both of us crying, but unable --or unwilling-- to look away from each other. I can’t… not if this is the last time I’ll ever see him or be able to hold him. I pull him close and bury my face in the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry, “ I whisper.

“Hey, no no. I’m sorry, Cullen. I wasn’t thinking. I mean, yes, I was thinking, thinking that this was going to be my ticket out of this place, my ticket away from the hell that was forced on me. I just… I never imagined that you wouldn’t want to come with me.” 

“My place is here. It’s all I’ve ever wanted… until I met you.” 

Alistair cups my cheeks, kissing each one in turn. “I know. I wish I could stay here with you. I wish I felt the same way about the order that you do, but I just… can’t. I don’t. And I never will. And you know… maybe this isn’t goodbye forever. We could see each other again.” 

“You are forever the optimist, you know that?” 

“It is one of my finer qualities.” He grins, and it’s his grin that shatters my resolve.

_I never could say no to that smile._

“I’m going to miss you Alistair. Will you write?”

“I will!” he says. “I promise.”

“Me too,” I whisper into his chest pulling the covers up and over us both, snuggling in together. I lay there for a few minutes listening to his heartbeat; calm, familiar, soothing. “I’m going to miss this,” I say, finally breaking the silence.

“I’m going to miss you,” Alistair whispers. The comforting sound of his steady breathing and the gentle caress of his fingers through my hair, is the last thing I remember before I fall asleep.

When I wake the next morning, Alistair is already gone.


	2. The Day Cullen Leaves the Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen's first post at Kinloch Hold

* * *

**Change of Plan**

**(Cullen as the Hero of Ferelden - A Cullistair Story)**

**Chapter 2: The Day Cullen Leaves the Order**

* * *

It is a day like so many others in the tower: monotonous, boring. Nothing like I used to dream this life would be. I stand idly at my post thinking about just how much Alistair would have hated this life. He always disapproved of any type of belittling and bullying. He always took it personally, even if it wasn’t aimed at him. Here, though, that’s all there seems to be. The Templars talk down to the mages, the people in command belittle and boss around those beneath them. And I… I just stand here, day after day, keeping my head down so no one pays me any attention, and I do my job. My Maker-forsaken job. 

There are days, though, that even I can’t turn my back on what I see.

I was raised to believe that the Maker _is_ love. I was taught that you help those of lesser fortune, that you lift people up --build them up-- so they can do better, _be_ better. But here? That’s the furthest thing from what they want from us. They preach hatred and elitism. We are here to keep them in line, we are here to protect the world from the horrible things the mages are capable of. That’s total bullshit. I can’t believe the Maker and his bride would condone the atrocities that I’ve seen since I got here. 

_I hate it. I hate all of it!_

The executing of the mages they ‘believe’ have taken too long during their Harrowing. “ _They’re dangerous!”_ they cry out. “ _Kill them before they unleash their horrors on all of us!”_ Even worse… the rite of tranquility to _protect_ those that aren’t strong enough to become a ‘proper’ mage. _Whatever that means._ Wouldn't it be better to help them master their basic skills so they won’t hurt themselves? Wouldn’t it be better to give them work doing research or something in whatever field their interest drives them to study? Wouldn’t it be better to allow them to excel in the areas they can and not punish them for not being good enough in all the rest?

 _You’re an idealist,_ they tell me. Keep those blasphemous ideas to yourself or you’ll find yourself with an even larger dose of lyrium to keep you docile. _Don’t even get me started on the daily doses of lyrium._ Before I took my vigil, I learned to smite and cleanse. The skills are there, born within us after long hours of training. Sure, the lyrium makes it easier. But I didn’t join the order for _easy_ , I joined the order to help, to protect, to serve where I thought I could do the most good. But now? Well… this _wall_ is pretty damn protected. 

I can’t help the snort of derision at my train of thought just as Anders comes into view. One of the few people I actually get along with here. Sure, a little unorthodox in how outspoken he is regarding mage rights, but in all honesty, I don’t disagree with him.

“Everything okay Ser, Cullen?” Anders asks. He cares, more than I’m able to reciprocate, but he respects my devotion to Alistair and it’s nice to have someone care at all in this awful place. 

“Just thinking about the futility of my job,” I tell him, honestly. I notice that he’s looking a little nervous. “Is… everything okay?” I ask.

Anders shrugs his shoulders then looks down at the fire-wand in his hand. “Do you ever have a bad feeling about something… like even though you’re only doing what you’re asked to do, it’s somehow going to come back and bite you in the ass?” 

“Every single day,” I tell him. “Do you need some help?” It’s not unheard of for the mages here to be abused by their caretakers _\-- subjugators, is more like it_. I’ve stepped in a time or two in their defense and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I think about how long I’ve been on post. “I should be relieved by another guard soon if you should need my aid.”

He looks up and me and smiles. It’s sad and resigned. He looks down the hall again then back at me. “It’s Jowan.” Anders sighs. “He… wants to find and destroy his phylactery; and he wants my help to do it so he can run away with his girlfriend.”

“Oh, I…” I start uncomfortably. “Is that something you want to help him do?”

“Yes? No.” Anders sighs. “Look. You and I have had lots of discussions about mage rights and usually I’m all for letting us be free to take care of things myself. But… there’s just something not right about this; about him. It doesn’t feel right. He’s been acting very strange lately and I… I just don’t want any part of it.”

“Then why do it?” I ask. “You can always tell the First Enchanter about what’s going on.

Anders laughs, humorlessly. “Who do you think told me to help him?”

“What? Why?” I don’t understand, and I’m sure it shows.

“When Jowan approached me, I went to Irving. But he said we can’t just tell on him to Greagoir, Jowan needs to be caught in the act. So I’m to help him and hopefully not go down with him.”

“Oh…” I say, inelegantly. “I guess I can understand that, but if your orders come from the First Enchanter, then you should be able to come out unscathed?” It’s more of a question than a statement and Anders just chuckles. 

“I suppose.” He shrugs. “Um… do you think-- I mean, you said you were getting off soon, could you maybe hang out near the entrance to the basement? That’s where we’re supposed to be heading and I’d rather have a friendly face nearby should this go bad.”

I nod without hesitation. I agree with Anders, there is something ominous about this whole situation. “I will be there, Anders. You have my word. And please, be careful, we don’t need any of the bad type of excitement around here if we can help it,” I tell him before he begins to head off.

Anders takes a couple of steps then stops and turns around again with a smile. “Thank you, Cullen. I wish I could say that this is the most exciting thing that’s happened today, but did you hear? A Grey Warden arrived asking for help for the war. If things don’t go as planned, maybe he’ll take me with him,” he says hopefully then turns again and walks away.

 _A Grey Warden? Here?_ I barely have time to ponder if it’s the same Grey Warden that took Alistair from me when my replacement shows up. 

I give him a perfunctory nod before I head off to where Anders asked me to meet him. 

**~*~**

When I arrive, things look like they’re getting out of hand and escalating quickly. There are Templars on the ground, unmoving, and Greagoir has his sword drawn and aimed at Anders demanding retribution, Irving trying to talk him down, and an initiate in the corner sobbing something about not knowing. 

Anders has his hands up looking like he wants to be anywhere else but here.

Before I can think twice, I shout, “You can’t blame Anders for this, he was just following orders!” I step between my friend and my Knight-Commander, my own sword drawn.

I know I’m in trouble when my Knight-Commander narrows his eyes at me. “Ser, Rutherford, stand down. Your insolence will be dealt with in kind, but for now I need to punish this mage’s ill-thought out actions.”

I hold my position and pray for a way out of this that won’t end in either mine or Anders’ death.

Before Greagoir can say anything more, another voice joins in, “Perhaps I can offer a more peaceful solution.”

I look up and see Duncan, the same Warden who recruited Alistair. He nods at me and offers a small smile of recognition before turning toward the arguing Knight-Commander and First Enchanter. “I came here seeking aid for the coming blight. Perhaps, instead of punishing either of these two young men, you will allow me to take them to Ostagar with me. You didn’t want me to have a mage without a guard to keep them in check, perhaps sending a Templar with me as well, will assuage your fears.” 

Greagoir digs in his heels, and doesn’t look like he’s going to let us go. Just when I think that Anders and I don’t stand a chance, Duncan says, “Very well, then I evoke the right of Conscription for the coming blight. I _will_ take the mage, Anders, and this Templar, Cullen, to Ostagar with me, and we _will_ be leaving tonight.”

I stand there looking at Duncan with my jaw hanging open. No one ever speaks to Greagoir that way! And Greagoir is just standing there, his jaw clenching and unclenching until he sheaths his sword. “Very well, Duncan. But you must take them and leave at once.” 

With barely a blink, he turns on his heels and storms off.

The First Enchanter asks for a few minutes to speak with Anders before we depart, which leaves me standing alone with Duncan. 

“Well, that did not go as planned,” Duncan says. “But the good things in life rarely do. I came here to find the aid of a mage, and here I find myself with Alistair’s long lost love as well, today has turned into a better day than I planned.” He winks at me. “He’s been unbearable to be around since we left the chantry six months ago.”

I swallow thickly. “Has he not made a very good Warden, Ser? He was always one of our best fighters and he seemed very excited to be joining you.”

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. Alistair is an exceptional Warden. And, most of the time, he hides how much he misses you. But--” Duncan chuckles. “Whenever he gets even a little bit of ale in him, that boy won’t shut up about how much he misses you.”

I bow my head, trying to hide my blush. “I miss him too. Will… uh - will this be a problem? Our working together? The Templar order frowns on fraternizing.”

Duncan smiles. “It’s a good thing you will no longer be a Templar then.” He scrubs his fingers through his beard and then says more seriously, “Follow orders, keep your private life… private, and no, there shouldn’t be a problem.” He clasps me on the shoulder and pulls me closer. “Warden’s lead a tough life, it’s important to savor the joy we find while we can. Cherish it. Because tomorrow you might not get another chance.” He sighs wistfully and I wonder briefly if he’s lost someone close to him, but before I can get a chance to ask, Anders is bouncing on the balls of his feet, looking like a cat ready to pounce. 

“I am so ready to get out of this place! When can we leave?” 

Duncan looks at my armor and grins. “Lets get your grand defender here into something a little less ‘official’ looking, and we can head off.” 

I look down at the flaming sword emblazoned across my shield and breastplate, a symbol I’ve long admired and practically worshiped and wonder briefly if I’ll miss it. I take a deep breath and decide that no, I won’t miss it at all. In fact, I’m looking forward to being free of this burden. Yes, I’m about to wear a different mantle, join a different order, probably have new rules to learn, but I will be with Alistair. Whatever we’re about to face, we can and will face it together. 

With the first true smile I’ve felt since Alistair told me he was leaving, I say, “I’m ready.”

  



	3. Reconnecting at Ostagar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen arrives at Ostagar

* * *

**Change of Plan**

**(Cullen as the Hero of Ferelden - A Cullistair Story)**

**Chapter 3: Reconnecting at Ostagar**

* * *

When we arrive in Ostagar, I’m practically vibrating with excitement. 

Duncan places a calming hand on my shoulder. “You’ll see him soon,” he soothes. 

Over the course of our travels from Lake Calenhad to Ostagar, Duncan and I have had time to get to know each other. It’s the most at peace I’ve felt in months. He’s a good man, a talented fighter, not quick to anger, nor is he quick to judge. He places great weight in proving yourself worthy, but also in aiding those fighting at your side because  _ together we are stronger _ . 

_ This! _ This is what I’d been hoping to find in the chantry. This empowerment, this faith in each other and ourselves. I can’t help but smile at the fortune that’s placed me with such an honorable order. I know I’ve not yet been initiated, I know I still have a lot to learn. But  _ this _ is a cause I’d be willing to lay down my life for. 

We are deterred briefly by a visit with King Cailan. I’m in awe of his presence, and perhaps it’s just because I haven’t seen him in so long, but I keep seeing Alistair when I look at the King. Longer hair, sure, different colored eyes -- I shake my head to clear it of the absurdity. 

Finally, through with the introductions, I’m given a rough idea of the camp’s layout and told that I should go find Alistair and bring him to Duncan. I am no errand boy, but still, I jump at the excuse Duncan has so graciously given me. After asking a few people, I’m directed to where Alistair is currently delivering a message. 

I stop at the bottom of a ramp and watch an exasperated Alistair try to keep his cool while talking to someone in robes. It’s almost comical in how little has changed. I approach slowly, drinking in every bit of him. He’s filled out, just a little bit more and he’s… Maker, he’s perfect! It’s all I can do not to rush up and crush him in a hug. 

I wait patiently as they finish their interaction, the mage, stomping off in a fit of exasperation. Alistair turns, not really seeing me, and says, “ You know, one good  thing about the  Blight is how it brings people  togeth--”

I can’t help but smile… “Hey, Al.” 

“Cullen?” Alistair asks, then rubs his eyes and looks again. “Maker, am I dreaming?”

“Not dreaming. You look…” I swallow, trying to find the right words. “Really good.”

_ Yeah, I probably could have come up with something better. _

Alistair notices my armor for the first time. “You’re not… you didn’t become a Templar?”

“No… I did. I was one, but then Duncan showed up and well… Tada!” I hold my hands out wide, hoping that he’s as happy to see me as I am to see him. He still seems unsure, hesitant. 

“We got word that Duncan was returning from the tower with a mage, he didn’t say anything in his message about bringing you with him.” 

I rub the back of my neck and take a tentative step closer. “Yeah, we uh… wanted to surprise you.”

“So.. no mage?” Alistair licks his lips and looks around, closing the gap between us with another step.

I’ve already checked. There is no one but us. “Well, there was one. But he took off while we slept, about three days out from the tower. It’s not the first time that Anders has run off on his own. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised.”

“And you didn’t go after him?”Alistair looks shocked.

I look down at my armor and lack of Templar tabard, then back up with a shrug. “Not my job anymore.” I grin, then let my smile soften and take that final step. We’re so close, I can feel his breath on my face. “I… missed you,” I whisper. “Nothing was the same after you left. I just… even the devotionals that I used to enjoy lost all their appeal once I didn’t have you there with me anymore. And then, when I got my first post at Kinloch hold-- Maker, Alistair, the way they treated mages. It just… I couldn’t do that. I can’t be that. You always taught me how to be the best person I could be, and they tried to take that from me. I don’t belong there. I belong here… with--.”

Alistair closes the gap between us, not letting me finish my confession, my plea for him to let us try again. I shouldn’t have worried. Kissing Alistair feels like coming home. His fingers feel like a balm on my skin as he cups and caresses my cheeks. Our lips brush together, once - twice, eventually he opens for me and I can’t help but dive in to taste him. Maker, I’ve missed this, I’ve missed him. There are tears wetting my cheeks when I finally pull away, but I refuse to release him from my embrace. Not yet.

“I’ve missed you so damn much,” Alistair says. “Duncan said to be patient, that he would try to find a way for me to see you after this coming battle. But I didn’t dare to hope, and yet… here you are.” He grins and pulls me in for another kiss. “Please tell me I’m not dreaming.”

“No, Sweetheart. You’re not dreaming,” I reassure him. “I am here, and very much real. We have so much to talk about to catch up, but first, we should go find the others. Duncan mentioned something about a small job we need to do before I can go through the joining ceremony.”

Alistair’s face pales briefly, before he covers it quickly with a smile. “Cullen,” he says. “I wasn’t sure how to feel about this upcoming battle. But, having you here, at my side, protecting my back… the Maker wouldn’t give this to us only to take it away again. This--” he kisses me briefly, then smiles brightly, “--this changes everything. There is no obstacle out there that we can’t overcome together.”

“I agree,” I say, threading our fingers together. “I wasn’t in the best place, back in the tower, but here - with you? The darkspawn won’t stand a chance against us!”


	4. Flemeth's Hut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up in Flemeth's hut... Fitting the pieces together.

* * *

**Change of Plan**

**(Cullen as the Hero of Ferelden - A Cullistair Story)**

**Chapter 4:** **Flemeth's Hut**

* * *

Something’s not right. I’m… floating, disconnected, detached. 

_ Where the hell am I? How did I get here?  _

I fight through the fog in my head to try to put together the missing pieces. I remember leaving the chantry, meeting the King… my joining. 

I’d never been so frightened in all my life, probably made worse by Alistair’s worried ramblings. He tried to talk me out of it, tried to convince me that we could figure out another way, but it was something I needed to do. I wanted to be a part of the one thing that made him so happy, so complete. After all, he tried to make the chantry work for him. Obviously, that wasn’t meant to be… for either of us. This, though, this was something I could put my faith in. And I survived. I was the only one. Daveth and Jory weren’t so lucky, though Jory’s death came from cowardice, not unworthiness. 

I locked eyes with Alistair as I put the cup to my lips. If I wasn’t going to survive the ceremony, I wanted him to be the last person I saw before I joined the Maker. My beloved. My… Alistair. 

We needn’t have worried, when I next opened my eyes, his were filled with relief and so much love. Duncan gave us the time we needed. He understood, he approved. His approval meant everything to us. 

Both Duncan and Alistair helped me through the initial nightmares and the ever present pull of the darkspawn. I can still feel them even now, but there’s something missing. The craving… that insistent need for Lyrium. It’s not there. Not simply abated until I can take my next dose, it’s simply… gone. 

Duncan assured me that my need for it would lesson after my joining; the taint itself would consume most of my addiction, but I still require a fraction of a dose every day. I should be feeling that insatiable burden, but I don’t. I am blissfully free of it. 

Shifting slightly, I twinge as pain shoots through me in several places. With it come vague images: I remember a battle… a tower… feeling helpless, overwhelmed, overrun with darkspawn. 

**_Alistair!!!_ **

I sit up, gritting my teeth against the pain, but I must know. If I’m alive, then perhaps there’s a chance...

I look around and find myself in a small, sparsely furnished room. There’s a fire in the pit against the wall and books haphazardly strewn about every flat surface. It reminds me of when the mages back in the tower were researching new or exciting topics. 

As I try to figure out where I am, the witch we met during our trek into the Korcari Wilds greets me and gives me disjointed bits of information that aren’t making any sense. __

_ How can I no longer be in Ostagar? Why would Loghain have abandoned us? Everyone can’t be dead! _

One piece of information sticks in the forefront of my mind keeping the rest of my panic at bay.

_ Alistair is alive. _

I manage to get myself out of bed, and though my legs are wobbly, I force myself to dress quickly so I can get to him. If I’m this confused by the recent turn of events, I can only imagine how heartbroken he is feeling. This was his family, his friends, his… _ Duncan. _

Taking a shaky breath, I stumble my way to the door and throw it open. Eyes squinting against the bright light of day, I let them adjust only long enough to make out the slumped shoulders of my love as he looks out across the water. I’ve never seen him look so lost, so broken.

Morrigan’s mother is speaking. To him? To me? I’m not exactly sure and honestly... I don’t care. As soon as Alistair turns around, I know where I need to be. I know where I belong. I’m still sore, I should probably rest a little bit longer, but he looks like he needs me now more than ever. So I go to him; wrapping him in my arms and pulling him to my chest.

“You… you’re alive! I thought you were dead for sure,” he whispers in awe, returning my hug, squeezing me tightly. The pain I feel when he squeezes around my damaged ribs is not important compared to the pain his words are laced with.

I place my forehead against his, reassuring him of my presence and the hope we still have for the future as long as we’re together. Yes, we’ve lost so much, but this… this is something we can build from. 

With Flemeth’s help, we realize that we still bear the weight of the Warden order on our shoulders. There’s still a Blight coming, and we are the only two Wardens left in Ferelden. It’s up to us to unite our fractured country against the oncoming storm. She’s helped us as much as she is able; she rescued us from the brink of death, patched us up, and cured me of my lyrium addiction. She’s also insisting that her daughter accompany us to help in our coming battles. 

At the moment, I’m not sure how well we’ll all get along. In our two short interactions, Morrigan and Alistair have already proven to be antagonistic toward each other -- at best. But Flemeth is right, we have a long road ahead and we cannot afford to turn down aid when it is offered.

Equipped with the treaties giving us the power to insist on aid from the mages, dwarves, and elves, we head off to the closest town of Lothering and hopefully soon after, Redcliff. It’s not much, but it’s a start. A place to begin this adventure that’s bigger than all of us. After all, what can two --wet behind the ears-- Wardens and one apostate witch of the wilds accomplish that all of the Grey Wardens before us couldn’t? 

Apparently enough. 

Flemeth believes in us. We have a job to do. Failing here is not an option, there are too many people's lives at stake to do anything other than triumph against the darkness. 

For the Grey Wardens.

For Ferelden.

For Alistair.

… I can and will be what they need me to be. I will have to be.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to **TatteredLeaf** for giving me a quick read through. This has not gone through my usual process of edits, so please let me know if you find anything I've missed, I will happily fix them ASAP! :) 
> 
> I also want to thank **JellySharkBat** for the idea and the indirect prompt! I'm really enjoying writing this from Cullen's POV - I can't wait to see where this takes us!


End file.
